


Frigid

by DancesWithNargles



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The First Avenger, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, I write when I'm hurting, Mild Language, Near Death Experiences, Near Drowning, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Pneumonia, Protective Steve Rogers, War time Bucky, Whump, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancesWithNargles/pseuds/DancesWithNargles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a landmine explodes in the forest, Bucky falls into a frozen lake and Steve jumps in after him. But pulling a frozen Barnes from the water is the least of Steve’s worries and a snowstorm strands them in foxholes while he desperately tries to warm his friend and prevent hypothermia.</p><p>Updates every other Thursday</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Amber Run's "I found" makes me want to cry. So does this chapter. Listen and read at the same time for optimal whump experience.

The Howling Commandos were scanning the inner forest when they came to the clearing and the landmine went off.

 _Crack!_ **Shoom!** The explosion was deafening and powerful, throwing Rogers backward into the snow. His head collided with the hard ground and the wind was knocked from his lungs. It took him a moment to gather in a gasping breath. The ringing in his ears was sharp, but all other sounds were numb as he groaned and rolled slowly to his side, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

Gabe lay within arm’s reach, coughing and sputtering, and Dum Dum’s hat was wobbling near Steve’s feet. The smoke was beginning to clear and so was Steve’s hearing.

“Is everyone okay?” He managed to choke out, urging his sore body to sit up.

The myriad of groans and “okay” was a comfort as his senses recovered, but he had the serum to thank for that and he knew the rest of them would need a longer moment. It suddenly occurred that he hadn’t heard _Bucky_ answer, fear quickening the jump to his feet.

“Does anyone see Sergeant Barnes?”

Five voices answered “no” when all he wanted to hear was the sixth voice telling him to _stop being such a mother hen_. But that voice never came.

Steve scanned the trees again and panic rose in his chest. “Bucky!” He called, and to hell with not giving away their position!

“Barnes?” Gabe croaked from where he rested on his knees. “He was…higher ground, Captain.” He pointed at the rocks to their right, and of course Bucky had gone to higher ground. It was the best vantage point for his rifle and Steve began to wonder if he might see his friend’s face pop up from behind cover, laughing at their sorry asses for getting knocked over.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The Howling Commandos seemed to share in Steve’s distress, faces turning in each direction.

“Captain,” Dum Dum brushed the snow from his hat, pointing ahead of them. 

The clearing could have been a small lake or a large pond, but whatever it was, there was a rapidly freezing hole and Steve bolted for it before he knew his legs were moving. The hole was large enough for a man to fit through and water rippled from beneath a thin layer of forming ice. Sure enough, Steve’s worst fears were confirmed when he caught sight of Bucky’s hand in the water. 

Rogers didn’t even think, he just moved, bringing his foot crashing down on the newly-formed ice and removing his jacket as he prepared to jump in. Instantly, the other Commandos were shouting objections and a few hands were attempting to pull him away.

“The ice will seal you inside before you can make it out!”

“Better to chop into it, lad! You won’t see a thing in that darkness!”

“Captain Rogers, you can’t just—”

But he shoved heavily against them, throwing off their restraining limbs, and dove into the frigid water.

It was black and bone-chilling, the shock of the cold was like razors against his face, and he struggled to open his eyes as he held his breath and kicked against the moving flow of water. Steve felt something brush against his arm and grabbed it instantly, only to be met with the barrel of Bucky’s rifle and not the man himself.

Opening his eyes once more, Steve could make out more grey than black and moved towards one distinct color—the blue of Barnes’ coat. A few more kicks brought him close enough to see Bucky’s limp form drifting toward the bottom of the lake, arms outstretched toward the surface though his face was clearly slack in unconsciousness. His handsome features were peaceful, but that was all the more terrifying, his hair waving with his body’s slow, deathly descent to the bottom. Reaching out to take hold of Bucky, Steve’s long arm wrapped around his friend’s shoulder, tugging him along to find the way they came in.

But it _wasn’t_ there.

Whoever had said the ice would seal them in had been right. Steve kicked against the water to keep them close to the surface, one arm around a limp Barnes and the other pounding against the frozen barrier between them and air. Steve had yet to feel the burn in his lungs, but he was a super-soldier and he hadn’t been underwater as long as Bucky had. That thought urged him on as he punched relentlessly against the ice.

The Howling Commandos must have heard him because they began to drum out their own beat from atop the ice, rifle-butts striking at the same weakening spot Steve was hammering at diligently. Finally, with a crack and a whoosh of moving water, a hole appeared, and Steve didn’t think twice before raising Barnes above him to get the unmoving man’s head above water. The crack wasn’t nearly large enough to squeeze Bucky’s shoulders through, but he would hold Bucky there until Steve’s arms broke or his lungs gave out.

At last, a rifle nearly struck Steve in the face, bringing bits of ice away from the opening, and several hands heaved Barnes’ upward. It was strange, but Steve felt such relief at seeing Bucky make it through that his muscles relaxed and his brain got foggy, his adrenaline spent and his limbs beginning to float of their own accord. The hands returned, gripping Rogers by the straps of his uniform and hauling him upward.

Steve felt the rapid tug toward air and gasped loudly, sucking in as much as his lungs would hold as he was dragged away from ice and brought to a snowy bed, the droplets on his wet face hardening as the chill in the air increased. The cold of the lake had been all-encompassing, but the wind-chill of the open air made him shiver violently. He couldn’t tell which was worse.

“Sergeant Barnes,” came Falsworth’s accent nearby, and when Steve tilted his head he could see all but Dum Dum hovering over Bucky on the ground.

“You okay, Cap?” Dugan spoke from above Steve, but he was too busy shuffling to his feet to answer and dragging his recovering, but cold body toward Barnes, kneeling beside his friend’s knees.

“Est-ce qu'il respire?” Dernier asked, pulling off Bucky’s wet boots and wrapping his feet in a shirt from Dernier's pack.

“No, he’s not breathing,” Jones answered.

Barnes’ head lay to the side, streaks of ice painted across his cheeks, along his eyebrows, and around his open mouth. His chest was motionless, his drooping limbs like a puppet cut from its strings. Again, it didn’t take a single thought and Steve was leaning over Bucky to press his hands against Bucky’s chest.

“Wait!” Falsworth gripped Steve’s wrists before he could apply pressure. “ _Gently_ , mate—you’ll crush his ribs.” Oh, right. Rogers was ten times stronger than the rest of them…

Pressing lightly, but quickly, he pumped his hands against Bucky’s chest as if coaxing life back into his seemingly lifeless body. Steve pinched Barnes’ nose and breathed into his mouth, continuing until he felt a ripple of movement underneath him. It was fortunate he pulled back when he did because Barnes tilted his head away from Steve and vomited what had to be the entire lake’s contents. Steve couldn’t believe the human body could hold so much water, but relief stabbed his heart like an electric current.

Snow began to fall in earnest as Steve’s hands helped to roll Bucky onto his side, the gagging and choking interrupted only by loud pants for air. He trembled weakly under Steve’s hold, shoulders and chin jerking in spasms while Bucky curled himself into a fetal position. Steve’s chest ached with pity and all he wanted to do was scoop his friend into his arms and run for their camp, but the way Dugan was looking at the windy sky with disapproval made his hope sink.

“This is bad,” Dugan said, rising from his knees and rubbing his hands together. “This storm’s getting worse by the minute.”

“We need to get him back to camp," Steve insisted, removing Bucky’s coat, which was already iced and stiff.

“We Californians might not know much about snow,” Morita held Steve’s retrieved jacket out, which was blessedly dry. “But you can’t drag a man with hypothermia through a snowstorm for five miles, no matter how fast some of us can run.”

Bucky moaned in objection at the loss of his coat, head lolling tiredly and eyes slowly blinking, up until a harsh wind blew against them and he sharply cried out in pain, teeth chattering and fingers grasping his now-frozen shirt. Taking off Bucky’s crackling and icy shirt, Steve threw his own jacket around Bucky and held him close, rubbing at the shivering man’s shoulders and muttering false encouragement.

“He doesn’t have hypothermia, yet,” Dugan said. “But he could get that way if we stay here.”

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?” Steve bit out in a rare moment of irritably, glaring at the sky and the growing winds that were threatening to blow over the men standing around him. “Bunker down in foxholes until this passes?”

“Oui.” Dernier replied solemnly. The silence of the others said they agreed. Steve could see the logic of it—the only cover they had were bare trees, even the rocks he’d thought Bucky had climbed earlier were rounded and not sheltering at all. He wondered in that moment just how fast he could run. If he perched Bucky on his back and opened up his super-soldier throttle, maybe they could…

 _No_. The more time he thought about it was the longer Bucky was being blown at by this freezing wind and he had to do something _now_.

“Foxholes,” Steve nodded resolutely. They each agreed to double up in smaller foxholes as none of them liked the idea of being out in the chill for longer digging.

Bucky muttered incoherently from where he sat, wrapped in Gabe’s arms, unknowingly spurring Steve on as he finished digging in what had to be record time. He held his arms out to Gabe, taking the still-muttering Barnes and laying him in the ground—a desperate dread flashed through Rogers’ innards at the thought of it, of _laying Bucky in the ground_. But the Captain gathered himself together and laid branches over half of the hole, intending to cover it entirely once he was inside with his friend.

“You’re gonna need help.” Gabe hadn’t moved from where he stood over the foxhole. Rogers’ wasn’t entirely sure what the Commando was offering until he added, “Won’t be able to light a fire and he’s gonna need body heat.”

It dawned on Rogers that Jones was right, gratefully motioning for the dark man to come down with them. Covering it with the last of the branches, Steve shuffled downward and stripped to the bare skin of his torso, sliding Bucky’s back against Steve’s bare chest while Gabe did the same and pressed his warm back to Bucky’s front. Their two dry jackets blanketed them all, but Steve could still see his breath, cloudy against the cold.

“S-ste-Steve?” Bucky chattered wakefully, an icy hand reaching behind him to grasp the larger man's arm, his own cloudy breath weak and sporadic.

“I’m here, Buck.”

“Wh—‘s goin’ on?”

“You decided to take a swim in a frozen lake, Buck,” Steve attempted to laugh, but his distress and concern was obvious.

“Gabe?” Bucky squinted at the back of Gabe's head, cocking an eyebrow at Jones’ half-undressed state. “Coulda’,” He shivered sharply, bringing his arms back to his chest with a whine. “Coulda’ at least bought me dinner first.”

Shuffling through his jacket pocket, Gabe retrieved a chocolate bar. “There. Not really a classy dinner, but you’re not a classy guy anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a putz.” Bucky answered groggily with a sniffle, struggling with the wrapper. “Damn hands are frozen stiff…”

Without a word, Steve reached around to grab the chocolate bar, unwrapping it and sticking a piece of chocolate into Barnes’ mouth. He hoped Jones was right, that the sugar might help, and Steve wracked his brain to think up any other way to help his friend thaw out.

“Steve's got amnesty from the dinner rule.” Barnes coughed, lazily chewing on the chocolate as he rested his head against Steve’s bicep, the super-soldier’s other arm wrapped around Bucky’s shivering chest. “Jeez, Steve, you’re warm…”

“Good thing, too.” Steve rubbed a heated hand over Barnes’ shoulder.

" 'M not complainin'."

* * *

 

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the storm raged overhead, snow seeping through cracks in the branches and breezes occasionally biting at them. Although Rogers ran hot, an effect of Erskine’s serum, he was beginning to fear for not only Bucky’s health, but Gabe’s as well. Noble as the effort might have been, Jones’ trembling was starting to match Barnes’ and Steve called out to Dugan and Falsworth, who gathered their comrade into their own foxhole for a share of their warmth.

The sleeping Barnes rolled over in the dirt, curling into Steve's body heat and pressing his chilled face into Steve’s chest, which earned a sharp intake of breath from the larger man.

“Buck, you all right?” Steve draped his jacket closer to Bucky’s back, unconcerned with his own frigid skin.

“Just dandy, Steve-o.” Barnes grumbled bitterly, clenching his chattering teeth together and pressing his trembling arms between them.

* * *

 

Once again, Steve lost track of time, opening his bleary eyes to see that the blizzard had ended and the sun, though dimmed by cloud, was in a different position. He almost stretched his arms over his head when he realized Bucky was sleeping on one of them, thankfully no longer trembling.

“Storm’s gone.” Steve thought aloud, half-hoping this would wake Barnes, but he lay still. Steve pressed fingers to his neck to find a racing pulse and overheated skin.

Bucky’s eyes were crammed shut and his mouth was twisted in a hardened scowl, his forehead glossy with sweat and his curled hands like claws on the jacket around his shoulders.

“Bucky,” Steve tried again, nudging his shoulder softly. When he got no reply, he rested a hand over Barnes’ forehead and found feverish heat. “You’re burnin’ up.”

When Steve shifted again, it startled Bucky awake and his head shot up, wide and terrified eyes meeting Steve’s and amplifying his alarm. If Bucky was afraid then there was definite cause.

“What’s wrong?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky flees, convinced that Zola's experimentation has left him diseased. Should he stay and risk infecting the others, or go home and suffer a worse fate...  
> "Slip Away" Josh Garrels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad storm=no internet, no internet=updating late. Also, I know this chapter is short, but another one's coming soon.

Heat licked at Barnes’ forehead, surging deep into his bones. The brain fog clouding his judgement made it difficult to pinpoint where he was, but the echo of his dream—Zola, always Zola—convinced him that he was still there. Perhaps that was the reality of things: he was still painfully clamped, confined to that sharp-edged metal table, and the dream was that he’d returned to Dugan and the rest of them. Steve…

“You’re burning up.” Someone said. Was it wishful thinking that the _someone_ had Steve’s voice?

 _Quit zappin’ me with your death rays and I’ll stop catching on fire_ , he wanted to say, but his mouth was too dry and the fear that gripped him held is throat tight.

“What’s wrong?” The voice spoke again, and this time Steve’s face came with it.

The Nazi bastard was making him see things now, Barnes tried to convince himself, but his mind was already taken in, desperate for refuge from the terror coursing through him. _That’s not Steve_ , he tried to reason. _It’s not Steve, it’s not Steve, it’s not…_ Horrifying paralysis kept him where he was, staring at the vision of his best friend and certain he was looking death in the face.

But at a twitch of his wrist, he found his hands free. Had Zola made the mistake of loosening his restraints? Bucky tried his feet. Those were unbound as well. Opportunity was smiling on him and he wasn’t about to take that gift for granted. His limbs, once frozen by fear, were now brimming with adrenaline like a coil about to release.

Now! Now was his chance!

He rolled from the table, landing ungracefully on a heap of something hard and breakable. Probably bones, Bucky thought morbidly, and they snapped like twigs in the dirt. But no time to look down and see, he had to make it up the stairs, through the door, and out into the open. Shouts followed him and he was caught on the cheek by something sharp. Probably the bayonet of a sentinel, but he couldn’t look back; his legs were moving too fast and his brain even faster.

Get to the forest, get to the forest, get to the forest! Run! Run! He ran for what seemed like hours.

Soon enough, he was surrounded by withered trees and freezing snow. Snow? It was the rainy season, when had snow fallen…

As if his eyes had opened for the first time, Bucky got a good look at where he was.

The ground was covered in a blanket of glistening white, glittering in the sunlight that popped through the clouds overhead. The trunks of grey trees were scraped away, picked clean by the deer that must have come by. The only sound to be heard was the air in Bucky’s lungs and the low, eerie breathy-sound passing through an empty forest in winter. And the chill…

It dawned on Barnes that he was bitterly cold, huddling down with arms wrapped around himself. His chattering teeth and heartbeat were loud in his ears, and his insides felt raw, upset. Bending forward, he coughed up something hot and sticky, releasing the contents of his stomach soon afterward. If Barnes had been in his right mind at that moment, he’d have recognized the substance as the mucus that had been lining his lungs after his dip in the lake. But his mind was traipsing to darker places.

“Zola,” He braved the name aloud. “He’s…he made me sick.”

Diseased was the word Barnes was still too afraid to say. Whatever the scientist had done to him, his body must have been consumed, riddled with illness. He had half a mind to tell the Army doctors, maybe they’d write him a ticket home and he wouldn’t infect the others. But what would be waiting for him at home?

“Oh, God,” Barnes felt the hot tears slip from his face and he bit the knuckle of a clenched hand, willing himself to stay away from that line of thinking. It didn’t work.

They’d put him in a mental institute. He was obviously crazy, what else would they do with him? And he knew what happened in those places… Steve’s mother had treated patients that had undergone psychosurgery. It had scared Barnes then, seeing the result of modern science applied to mental illness, but now it gripped him to soul.

“Bucky!” Steve was coming.

Barnes shuffled on hands and knees through the snow, barely feeling it, and backed himself up against a tree, trying to hold his breath for fear of his friend finding him. Maybe he could run, Steve hadn’t seen him yet. Steve couldn’t find him, couldn’t send him back, he couldn’t go home, he couldn’t go home—

“Buck, you out there?” Steve was coming closer.

 _No, Steve, please…_ Barnes eyes were once again filled with tears. _Don’t make me go, don’t let ‘em take me…_ But it was as though his thoughts were so loud that Steve could hear them.

“There you are, Buck,” Steve rounded the tree and knelt down, hands out to touch Bucky’s shoulders.

But what Rogers meant to be comforting was just about a death sentence to Barnes.

“Don’t!” Bucky scrambled backward, as if pushing hard enough would let him slide through the tree and away from his friend’s arms.

“Woah, Buck,” Steve held his hands up peacefully. “It’s me. We’ve been looking for you; it’s not safe out here.”

 _Nowhere is safe,_ Barnes groaned inwardly. “Wish you’d leave me alone.”

Steve shook his head at that. “Can’t. Not the end of the line yet.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Steve doesn't see things the same way Bucky does, and maybe sending him home would be the best thing for him. Unfortunately, Bucky doesn't agree, tells Steve death would be better than the alternative.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter is "Unsteady" by X Ambassadors

Steve had never seen his friend run so fast in his life. It was almost unnatural how fast Bucky moved. Leaping out of the foxhole, Rogers joined in the chorus of “Barnes!” with the other Howling Commandos, watching him become smaller and smaller with distance, certain that his friend had been overtaken by a nightmare.

Trench fever. That’s what some of the other soldiers were calling it, when someone had been fighting far too long on an unfamiliar field. Steve had already had suspicions about his childhood friend, but now there were other things raising his alarm.

“Well, then?” Monty said, “Isn’t anyone going to bloody follow him?”

Hesitating, Steve looked around at the others. As much as he wanted to rush off after Bucky—

“Get on it, Cap,” Dougan nodded at him, brushing his hands off on his pants. “We’ll keep. He won’t.”

Steve let out a sharp sigh, clenching his jaw and pressing forward. It was frigid enough that even _he_ felt it, chill seeping through his uniform; he couldn’t imagine how freezing it must be to Bucky. His footsteps crunched on the terrain as he followed Bucky’s tracks, wild divots upsetting the newly fallen, sparkling snow. His heart raced almost as fast as his thoughts.

He’d been selfish enough to think that Bucky had been okay. After defeat, capture, and torture of only God knew what kind… Steve had been selfish. He hadn’t outright begged for his friend to keep fighting at his side, but he hadn’t brought up any objections when Bucky refused the Army’s offer to let him go stateside. And now Bucky was paying the price for it. And then there were the other _incidents_.

Bucky’s uncanny ability to spot a soldier through his scope, or the things he heard that no else did, or the miraculous healing from several cuts, bruises, and a stab wound Barnes had thought he’d hidden away from everyone’s notice. But Steve was no dupe. The Red skull had injected himself with a bastardized version of Dr. Erskine’s serum, and Dr. Zola was working with the Red skull—the same Zola that had experimented on Bucky. It wasn’t beyond reason that Zola’s trials might have been successful. This had blessedly escaped the Army’s notice, protecting Bucky from even more poking and prodding that would have sent him into a fit, but Steve knew. Something about Bucky wasn’t quite the same.

“Bucky!” He called out, looking ahead and eyeing the tracks that had settled behind a tree. “Buck, you out there?”

How was Steve going to explain to his superiors that his friend had nearly drowned, caught pneumonia, and braved a blizzard in a foxhole, only to be well enough to run a fifty yard dash from those foxholes? The Army would catch on. They’d know something was up. Even if they eventually learned Bucky didn’t have a serum, he’d still be subjected to medical tests, agitating his already fractured mind. No, Steve needed to protect Bucky, his best friend, his brother. Barnes needed to _go home_.

“There you are, Buck,” Steve rounded the tree and knelt down, hands out to touch Bucky’s shoulders.

“Don’t!” Bucky scrambled backward, his eyes alight with terror and dread. He shivered as he pushed against the tree, arms wrapped around himself, scuffling his boots against powdery snow.

“Woah, Buck, it’s me. We’ve been looking for you; it’s not safe out here.” Steve’s pulse quickened and his hands shook. What was going on in poor Bucky’s head? Was he drawing closer to insanity before Steve’s eyes? Fear rumbled through Steve’s chest and his arms fell helplessly to his sides, drawing in breath after cold breath.

“Wish you’d leave me alone.”

Steve shook his head at that. “Can’t. Not the end of the line yet.”

“You don’t know that.” Barnes mumbled under his breath, face hidden in the arms draped around his knees.

“Well, I’m not leaving you out here in the cold. Let’s go back, join the Howlies, get to camp.”

“Jus’ gimme a sec.” Barnes’ voice cracked.

And what could he do? Steve was no more ready to go back than Bucky was, to be honest. He plopped down beside his friend, leaning against the trunk of the tree and looking at the sky. And so what if his shoulder was touching Buck’s? He needed that touch and he didn’t mind stealing it if Bucky was going to make him wait in the snow. A breeze picked up and Steve felt Barnes shudder with it. That shirt probably wasn’t doing much against the chilly air.

Shucking off his own jacket, Steve pulled his arms out of the sleeves and draped it around Barnes’ shaking shoulders.

“Buck,” Rogers sighed. How was he going to start this? “I’ve been thinking…I don’t want…” He took in another breath. “I’m scared, Buck.”

Barnes tugged the jacket closer around him with pale fingers, sniffling through a red nose. “What’s going on, Steve-o?”

“I’m scared we’re not gonna make it home.”

“Don’t be an idiot, of course we’re going home.”

“Are we?” Steve swiveled to meet his friend’s eyes. “Are you? Cause I can’t do this if I’m worried about you.” It didn’t sound right to his own ears, but he knew where he was going with this. If only he could get around to his point and keep Bucky on track, get Bucky to accept what he was thinking…

“I’m fine.” Bucky deflected, averting his eyes like he knew it was a pathetic defense. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Buck, I…” Out with it, Rogers. “I want to send you home.”

And now Bucky’s head swung around, catching Steve’s gaze with eyes so wide they might fall out of his head. “No, Steve—”

“There’s doctors,” Steve’s chest inflated with a breath he thought would strengthen him, but he still felt like he was suffocating, “that can help you. There’s not a lot of people who have seen what we’ve seen, but—”

“Steve, please, please, don’t!” Bucky’s wild eyes grabbed Steve with their gaze just as strongly as the hands that frantically gripped at Steve’s shirt. “Please,” Bucky gave him a shake, “You know what those quacks will do, you know what happens to people that live in those institutions—”

“No, Bucky, that’s not what I—” Blood rushed into Steve’s face, pounding and throbbing in his ears.  “Not that kind of doctor! No, I would never—I meant—”

“They electrocute people, Steve! They ‘d cut my head open—”

“Stop!” Steve shouted. He couldn’t listen to the horrors those monsters would inflict on his brother, clambering to his feet and looking down at the possessed Bucky at his feet. “You know I’d never let that happen to you! You _know_ that! Get up! Stand up!”

And that was all it took to get Barnes back on solid legs again, snapping to attention like a cadet afraid of his commanding officer.

“Tell me,” Steve took an angry step forward, “that you _don’t_ believe that. Tell me you _know_ I’d never send you to one of those institutions.”

“Steve, if my mind is—”

“Tell me.” Steve demanded, inches from Barnes’ face, fury boiling in his core.

“I…” Barnes’ head hung low, his voice a whisper. “I know you wouldn’t do that.” When his head rose again, a small fire kindled in his own eyes. “But you’d still send me home. You’d make me a quitter.”

“If you can prove to me that you’re of sound mind in action, I won’t bring it up again.”

It was Bucky who stepped closer now, looking up at Steve with resentment. “I already fucking have. _Captain_.” He spat the title out like a curse. “I’ve only fallen apart twice, when we were safe and everyone was accounted for, so you can take that proof and stick it up your ass.”

“Leave it to you two,” Gabe’s voice startled both of them, “to get into a pissing contest when we thought you fell into a ravine or got shot.”

“We were just headed back,” Steve glared at Barnes before turning away to follow Gabe, who was already returning to the foxholes.

Yet it seemed Barnes’ anger had died down with the interruption and he lingered a moment before trailing after them. He slid the jacket from his shoulders and offered it back to Steve, but Steve only shoved it back onto Bucky’s shoulders.

“Too cold out here,” Steve snapped. “Put it on and zip it up, Sargent.”

Ahead, Gabe smirked and shook his head at them. “You fight like my Ma and Pa.”

“At least your Ma and Pa get to canoodle when they make up.” Barnes sniffed, rubbing at his wet nose. “Steve’s not so sweet on me.”

“In your dreams, you hooligan.” Rogers’ temper was bleeding out, replaced by the secret relief that Bucky wouldn’t be leaving after all. They’d both made their points and it didn’t do to dwell on what they couldn’t change. It still nipped at Steve’s offense that Barnes thought he’d ever send him to a mental institution, but they’d already finished with that number. Time to move on. Except…

Steve stopped in his tracks, looking back at Barnes with grim resolution. “I’ll forget what we talked about. But… this isn’t a threat, okay? So, don’t look at me like that. I’m not sending you away, but… I don’t want to lose you out here. So at least lemme keep an eye on you.”

He could see that Barnes took it for what it was: a reassurance, not a threat.

“Us, too, Sarge.” Gabe offered as they reached the foxholes.


End file.
